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Tree of Eternity
For many ages, from time immemorial,
A magnificent tree has stood here.
Deep, deep into the ground, its roots dove,
High & wide into the sky, its branches soared.
Watching innumerable lives come & go,
It stood here, Silent & unchanging, it stood here.
It surrendered itself,
To the quiet passion of this world,
Not from fear but one of an admirer.
As the waning moon brought forth unhappiness,
The advent of an unknown dawn drew near.
Whispered a primal need that took shelter in us,
Lustrous lies wrapped in inclinations we hold dear.
If every hope is doomed to suffer,
In decorations of enmity.
Isn't it better to forget the sunburst azure,
And paint a glee in insanity.
Under a grave of burning light,
The tree waited at pangs of death.
Passed a thousand nights over cold wind,
Still listening to our breath.
A magnificent tree has stood here.
Deep, deep into the ground, its roots dove,
High & wide into the sky, its branches soared.
Watching innumerable lives come & go,
It stood here, Silent & unchanging, it stood here.
It surrendered itself,
To the quiet passion of this world,
Not from fear but one of an admirer.
As the waning moon brought forth unhappiness,
The advent of an unknown dawn drew near.
Whispered a primal need that took shelter in us,
Lustrous lies wrapped in inclinations we hold dear.
If every hope is doomed to suffer,
In decorations of enmity.
Isn't it better to forget the sunburst azure,
And paint a glee in insanity.
Under a grave of burning light,
The tree waited at pangs of death.
Passed a thousand nights over cold wind,
Still listening to our breath.
Published 6th Apr 2020
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4th May 2020 11:19pm
If every hope is doomed to suffer,
In decorations of enmity.
Isn't it better to forget the sunburst azure,
And paint a glee in insanity.
Under a grave of burning light,
The tree waited at pangs of death.
Passed a thousand nights over cold wind,
Still listening to our breath.
The greatest compliment one Poet can say about another;s work, is to wish that they themselves had written it...and this is true with this beautiful tragic lullaby, Mahmud.
Peace my friend and stay well...Harry
In decorations of enmity.
Isn't it better to forget the sunburst azure,
And paint a glee in insanity.
Under a grave of burning light,
The tree waited at pangs of death.
Passed a thousand nights over cold wind,
Still listening to our breath.
The greatest compliment one Poet can say about another;s work, is to wish that they themselves had written it...and this is true with this beautiful tragic lullaby, Mahmud.
Peace my friend and stay well...Harry
5th May 2020 12:25pm
That’s the greatest honour I could ever have, dear poet. And I think as time passed, I became better at feeling the world around me. Maybe I can't write much outside of love & sadness. But, I'm happy to be true to myself.
Mahmud
Mahmud
